Eye, Marie
by Hungarian Hexes
Summary: A young woman is sent to a neighboring province in an arranged marriage. In Aerie, Marie finds unhappiness and danger. Now it's not only a matter of being happy it's a matter of saving the province.


Please read the author's note at the end; it says it all, really.

* * *

Eye, Marie

_**Ma mère**_ used to tell me that eyes are the windows to a girl's soul. I would always respond by asking, "Can you read _my_ soul, mama?" She would always rub her chin, like my father used to when thinking, and make contemplating noises.

She would then say (and no matter how many times I asked, the answer would be exactly the same) "Of course, _ma chère_. And it is the most beautiful I have ever seen."

I would giggle, smile in that cute way only a child can, and that would be the end of that. Well, I grew up... Past the years when I was gawky; all elbows and knees... Past my first crush; a time spent giggling with friends behind heavy curtains and behind corners... Past my first ball; a time of gay laughter, broad splashes of color, and merry music.

And then my mother died. _Ma mère_ — the amazing, strong, beautiful, loving woman that she was — snuffed out by a simple winter flu. I could barely tolerate being at her funeral, as if I was supposed to be anywhere else. I couldn't bear to see her stiff, black-clad form lying as a parody of sleep inside that cold coffin. I suppose my father felt the same way; he was frozen, as if a statue, until they started lowering the coffin. Then, and only then, he let a solitary tear escape the mask that had appeared as his face.

After that, we didn't see each other. Well, that's not literally accurate — we _saw_ each other in tense, silent suppers, or in surprised and accidental meetings in deserted corridors — but we didn't ever _see_ each other again. I guess I reminded him too much of mother. People were forever comparing me to her.

I always thought mother's hair was just that littlest shade brighter and more golden than my blonde; her eyes a more vibrant emerald than my sea-green; her skin a more delicate tint than my own freckle-glazed complexion; her back just that little bit straighter; her curtsies more graceful; her hands more delicate and agile; her tongue more witty than mine. Her spirit stronger than mine would ever be.

That's not to say that I wasn't pretty, graceful, and smart. My tutors told me I was one of their more intelligent pupils. Even so, I knew that I would never use my mind, no matter how well-cultivated it was. Father would ship me off to some other province in return for a peace treaty. There, I would say my marriage vows, whisper some magic words to produce an heir, and then proceed to go blind from all the embroidery I would complete in my long, boring, and immensely tedious life.

Now, if I was Imogene with her bow, or Calliope with her ship _The Nymph_, or some other heroine from a romantic bard's tale, I would find the courage to run away, have an adventure, and find my true love. But I am a coward. I know that I would never survive on my own, and would rather face a boring, but peaceful death than an exciting, but probably painful death. Mother would have run.

But I am not her. Therefore, I was waiting to leave for the province of Aerie, where my betrothed waited. With my luck, he doubtlessly had warts, boils, and was fat.

"My lady?" I looked away from the glass-paned window, towards the door where a maid stood, wearing my family's gold-and-black uniform. She was new; uncertain and scared, and spoke with the lisp my countrymen always had when they had to speak Common. I wanted to reassure her — but Father would have heard. Servants were not to be talked to. "Your carriage waits in front of the manor, my lady."

I stood up, sweeping my skirts out in back of me. The daughter of Ahnteria could never travel in anything less than full style. I crossed the space to the door (and I wish I could say I _glided_, but I'm sure that would be a lie). The poor girl looked no more than eleven! I thought of something to make her feel better, though.

"_Merci beaucoup_," I whispered to the trembling maid, speaking our native language. I snuck a glance back to see her standing taller and looking more confident. As I had guessed, she was merely intimidated by the diversity of the serving quarters; not only did Mother hire from Ahnteria and Aerie, but she also welcomed those from Heran, Sapaeriour, and Mechegen.

However, I was surprised when I saw my father waiting beside the coach. Perhaps he actually cared that I was leaving forever. Our coat of arms — an arrow and a rose crossed against a star-filled sky — stood out against the white of the coach, and I would have preferred to concentrate on that.

"My daughter," Father kissed my forehead as he spoke with layered warmth in his tones. Did he actually care for me, in a strange and isolated manner? "May fair weather bless your short journey, and may Lady Luck kiss your life. _Vous__ne__vous__inclinez__à__personne_." You bow to no one.

With that, he handed me off into the dark interior of the coach, never again to see the fair town around the grand manor of Ahnteria. The thought was daunting, even more so than the final knowledge that my father had only been there to remind me that what I did reflected on him. Behave, or else he would look bad.

Curtains were secured over the windows, so I couldn't even look out until I worked the bottom side loose. I settled myself into the velvet-covered wooden seat. I might have succeeded in making myself comfortable, had my nerves not been strung as high as an acrobat's wire.

Suddenly I wished I had not discarded my plan of running away quite so quickly. It may have seemed to be perfect nonsense a day ago, but now it was starting to appeal to me. I shook my head to clear out these thoughts, blonde hair falling out of my drying ponytail where it was too short to stay slicked back. It would be madness to run now.

I worked another curtain free, thankful my nails weren't long enough to break or tear easily. I watched the populated towns nearer to Ahnteria dissolve into rolling countryside. I personally preferred the roughness of the mountains — for being what I could never be like — but the steadiness of the hills was a lullaby for my eyes. Soon I fell asleep for the most of the eight-hour journey.

"My lady! We are approaching Aerie!" That would be the coachman, I thought as his call cleared my murky thoughts. The sounds of the approaching village permeated even the thick carriage walls. I was glad, even more so now, that I had a window to see out of.

Aerie was much like Ahnteria; so much that for a second I thought the coachman had taken a wrong turn... that when I'd get out Mother would be alive and greeting me... that Father would live again... that I could run up to my room and crawl under the covers with a tragic romance... that I would never have to worry about marriage again... But no; my language was flooded out by the sounds of the native language of Aerie.

The carriage stopped after a short travel through a wide (from the edge of the manor gardens to the beginning of the forest a kilometer away) village. I dropped the cloth back onto the window, calming my nerves as if a champion fencer about to duel another champion. I also fastened my shoes back to my feet — those things were torture devices, I tell you!

The man who opened the door wore Aerie's silver-and-blue livery. I smiled at him (a surprisingly real smile) and let him hand me down from the coach. The sudden light blinded me for a second, and as I stumbled from lack of balance. However, the sight I was treated to when I see again was amazing.

The grand manor of Aerie was not what I expected. I honestly don't know what I expected. The white exterior glinted in the fading twilight, making the initial design even more imposing. Pillars stood clustered in sharp relief around the front door; more windows than I had time to count looked out on the town; intricate designs traced the edges of everything.

"It's even more magnificent at full night, my lady," commented the servant that had handed me down, standing next to me as the coach drove away. He glanced sideways and I flushed. "You were staring."

"I was not," I defended myself, appreciating his foreign lilt in the Common language. "I was simply... comparing it to my home," I finished lamely, looking down at my wrinkled dress. At least it covered my already-aching feet.

"And how does it match up, my lady?" the young man asked smugly as he lead me through the great front doors.

I stopped and looked at him fully. His tone had set off a chord in me. "No matter how much a grand manor lives up to its name, one will always choose their true home over it."

'But this is your home now,' a snide and cynical voice in my mind whispered. 'There is no choosing now.'

"As you judge, my lady." The servant's tone was definitely colder, I thought, but I didn't think about taking back my words. He inclined his head and added, "Your rooms are right down this hallway. If you need further help navigating, ask a man or woman in the manor uniform, my lady."

I was sure I would get lost without help. We had passed other servants, but this hall was deserted. My guide rounded another corner and stopped in front of an ornately carved yew door — for youth and rebirth. He opened it and bowed almost mockingly until I stepped in.

I ignored him, but it felt as if I had swallowed live butterflies, just like on the ride here. My bags were already unpacked. It looked as though I'd lived here my whole life. Maybe I'm just being paranoid, but even if it _looked_ as if I'd been here forever, it lacked the feel a room has when someone's lived in it. I shivered as if a draft had blown through the room. But I knew it was not so. The windows were closed.

My three windows were paned with glass and looked over the sun-lit town. Two more doors connected this room to other rooms. I looked behind me, glad the servant had left and would not see me if I broke down crying. I missed my room in the tower of the grand manor of Ahnteria more than ever now.

I turned again and walked through the left door. I found myself in the bedroom, much like my own at home. I immediately crossed over to the bookshelves lining the walls opposite the door. I ran my fingers along the well-worn spines of all my novels. There were stories about heroes; stories about heroines; stories where the protagonist ran away from an abusive childhood; adventures where a witty mind and a sharp tongue got the hero out of danger; romances where the sweetness of the heroine attracted the charming prince.

I had no novels in which the father of the heroine had her shipped off to a neighboring province where she was just a treaty promise to the noble house there. I knew my life would never be likes the epics. When I was younger I wished it would, but now I told myself I had given up foolish dreams of true love. I knew it was a lie.

A knock on the door spun me around in surprise. When I opened it, a dark haired maid bustled in, dragging me to the other door from the sitting room. Behind this door was the wardrobe, as I had guessed earlier. "Come, milady! You must be dressed appropriately for an early supper with my Lord Bastion and his family."

"What?" I stuttered, caught off-guard. I should have expected my betrothed's family to want to see me, I told myself. I just never expected it to be so soon. I hoped the maid didn't think me dumb, but she didn't seem to care.

I was soon stripped to my chemise. I felt horribly naked — I could dress myself! The maid was riffling through my dinner gowns, finally deciding on an indigo gown with flowing sleeves. She thought it modest. I thought the corset too fancy. Honestly, anything I cannot do up myself is too fancy for my tastes.

As the maid tried to suffocate me by tying the laces as tight as possible, I was thinking. This was one of the many, many, many times where I wished I was a country maid. In Heran and Sapaeriour, I've heard, girls are allowed to wear men's garb in public. They are also allowed to learn to fight for their provinces, just like Imogene — my favorite heroine. Her tale is one adventure after another; running away; fighting bandits and claiming their treasures; slaying wild beasts; falling in love with a disowned prince.

I was broken out of my thoughts with a particularly violent tug from the maid. It hurt to wear a gown after so many weeks of muslin and wool!

"I'm sorry, milady," the maid said sincerely, but I noticed the tightness remained the same. Her job was to make me look good, I suppose, but that doesn't make me resent it less. If anything, the pressure increased. I laid a hand on my stomach and felt the material stretch more than ever. I closed my eyes and hoped the maid would stop soon.

"Done, milady," the maid said and I opened my eyes, seeking out the mirror along one wall. I saw a young woman with a petite waist in an elegant blue dress. I couldn't believe that was me; maybe my mother. The maid was at my shoulder. "We'll need to do something with your hair, milady."

She wanted to fancy up my simple hairstyle. I protested, "_Non_... It's fine this way, thank you." I was dealing with enough changed that even something as superficial as my usual hairstyle would be a comfort. I smiled at the maid. "Truly."

The woman in blue and silver seemed loath to consent, but gave way in the end. "I suppose it's best this way, milady. We barely have enough time walk down to the private dining room as it is. Milady."

I heard the way 'milady' was just an addition, but not mocking like the other servant's was. I smiled, but it slipped off my face as the maid grabbed my hand again and tugged me off through the halls. If I hadn't been tired from my journey, I would have welcomed the run. However, I was also in a straight jacket — the sprint winded me much more than it normally would have.

The maid noticed my discomfort and waited with me until the color had receded from my cheeks enough for public appearance, then knocked on the door. Another servant appeared and ushered us inside. Honestly, how many servants did these people have?

The old Lord Bastion sat at the head of the small table, as was expected. Lady Delia sat at the other end, as I didn't expect. My mother never had so much power. Their daughter and son (my betrothed, I thought with a bit of dread) sat between them, on the right side of the table as viewed from the door. The Lady's direct left was occupied by a graying gentleman in black robes. I was left with the seat across from my betrothed.

I was seized with a sudden panic, but I hoped dearly that I didn't show it. I curtsied in what I hoped was a graceful way, murmuring, "My Lord Bastion. My Lady Delia." I didn't know the names of the other three people — what my etiquette teacher would call a dreadful faux pas. I called it an honest, but embarrassing, mistake. I blamed my forgetfulness, infamous back in Ahnteria among friends.

Lord Bastion rose, moved around the table, and kissed my hand. I felt myself blushing as he led me to my seat. "My dear, there is no need for formalities. I am merely Bastion, and I'm sure my wife would rather you call her Delia. After all, we are to be family!" He smiled, so I smiled back, but it felt fake and stretched. "Now, my daughter is Lizbet, as I'm sure you know. And my son, Leonard. How are you enjoying the manor?"

The sudden change in topic threw me for just a moment, but it was enough for Lizbet to giggle snidely and for Leonard to frown. My pride surged against them and I wanted to prove that I was not stupid, no matter how it looked. "I find the manner grand, and I wish _our_ servants were even half as eager to be on time."

I lowered my eyes demurely to my plate, waiting for the reaction. Leonard had come as a bit of a surprise to me. He had the dark hair that was common here, yes, as well as the heavy-set eyes, but his nose was sharp enough to belong on my father's face, and he was tallest sitting down. I was second-tallest. I didn't doubt we'd be tallest standing up.

"I'm glad you enjoy the manor, Marie-Christine," Delia said pleasantly, "It will be wonderful to have another woman around here. Perhaps you'll care to join me for a brunch tomorrow around ten?"

"I would love to. But please call me Marie; Marie-Christine was my mother," I corrected quietly. I looked up at Leonard and we locked glances. I suddenly remembered what Mother had always said about eyes. I couldn't read his, not even from this intense gaze.

"Marvelous," Delia declared. She clapped her hands thrice and servers appeared, carrying laden platters. They set one in front of each of us and, with proper obeisance, withdrew. It was impolite to talk during meals in Aerie. For that I was glad.

That night, I thought about the family into which I was about to marry in five days' time. Bastion was kind but distracted. Delia was bubbly, like the popular drink champagne, and her eyes were kind. Lizbet was stubborn, and I knew she didn't like me one bit. She was also ignored, by what I could sense. As for Leonard... I was unsure that I would ever represent anything but a treaty between two provinces to him.

But I just had to try. There was something in his eyes that told me I just had to try.

§―∞―§

Mid-morning three days into my stay in Aerie found me laced into another corset and sitting primly on Delia's balcony. This was the third brunch I had been invited to. I had been awake for hours, but had been blissfully re-reading Imogene. The maid bustling — honestly, are servants always busy — into my room put a quick end to that.

And so now I sat in the bright sun, listening to Delia's friends make small talk and gossip. I kept back a yawn. There were only so many times one could compliment another on their dress, make-up, or hair. Didn't these ladies understand that? But then again, I grew up with books and scholars, not chattering girls.

But perhaps, I thought almost wistfully as I watched the weathered faces change with compliments and questions, they had a point. If you talk and think gossip then your mind cannot stray to more troubling thoughts. Like mine had.

I was troubled over my upcoming marriage. The plans had been drawn up by the organizers. All that still needed to be done was fashioning my gown. It was a daunting thought; to have the week slipping by so fast. I still didn't know Leonard. I hated my cowardice.

For my promises to get to know him had withered away under my fiancée's dark stares each morning at breakfast. Telling yourself something in your safe, dark room at night was much different than acting upon it in the harsh light of day.

After the luncheon, during which I contributed as little to as I had the past days, I found myself alone. I decided to walk through the grounds. Dress fittings weren't scheduled until tomorrow, so I had all day. If I got lost, I could ask directions and hope they didn't hate me. I just needed to _get out_.

I lost track of time while wandering through bush mazes, lily ponds, and hanging gardens. Ahnteria's best gardens could never match up to Aerie's. Not if we worked a hundred years; never. As I was thinking, I suppose I wasn't looking where I was going. It was a common habit of mine. I bumped into someone, sending us both to the ground.

"_Je__ suis __très__ désolé_." In my haste to apologize, I had spoken in my native language, not common. I realized my blunder and repeated, "I'm very sorry. I wasn't looking where I was going and — oh. Hello, Leonard."

My betrothed was standing up as well, watching me with those deep-set, unreadable eyes of his. He said, "Hello Marie." Every word measured and neutral, almost deadpan. I gave up any lingering hope of him liking me, but I wasn't about to seem rude.

"I'm sorry for bumping into you —"

"Yes, you said that already."

I looked at him, surprised that he didn't want me gone as quickly as possible. Even if he showed it rather bluntly. " Well give me a topic to preach on!" I turned and stalked back the way I came. Just as I did so, I realized that my poor sense of direction would never get me back to the manor.

I turned back to my fiancée, pursing my lips and cursing inwardly. "Which way is fastest back to the manor?"

"You went walking in our gardens without knowing how to get back?" Leonard's tone was tinged with amusement and I felt my cheeks reddening again. I almost looked down out of embarrassment.

"It was better than staying inside where there was no air," I challenged. "Glass may look beautiful when the sun is glancing off it, but it doesn't let air in as well as shutters do."

"I see," Leonard said, as if actually contemplating the thought. He circled around to my left. "And do you have a preference between marble and stone?"

"_Non_. Marble is just another type of stone. It's usually better polished," I answered, my blush dying quickly. It was just like talking to one of my friends back in Ahnteria, but for the fact that we were sparring more fiercely. "_Et __toi_? And you?"

"Stone is much too dreary for my likes," Leonard said from behind me. I spun to meet his level stare. "It sets my complexion off horribly."

"You?" I asked, almost not believing we were standing in the famed gardens of Aerie, discussing how stone was bad for complexions. "I must inform you that you have skin some women would kill for, and you're complaining? How un-noble of you."

"Who says we must act noble all the time?" Leonard returned my challenge from earlier. I continued to face him as her circled. I took the bait.

"Why else would we have the title 'noble', then? And anyways, it's good for your ego if you do something nice _once_ in a while."

In a brief show of emotion, Leonard clutched his chest with a hand, as if wounded. "Milady, you rend my heart with your implied accusations. I command that you withdraw them."

I drew myself up to my full height — still shorter than his — and replied, "I am of equal birth and stature to you. You cannot command me to do _anything_!"

He stepped closer and my breath caught in my chest as he grabbed my arm and pulled me close. "Oh really?" His voice was dark, like a bruise. And, just then, he kissed me, sliding his lips over mine.

And, just as suddenly, he was gone. I could still feel him holding me, but he wasn't there. I whispered, "_Amour._" The word hung in the darkening air, as if suspended by what had just happened.

I turned and wandered back the way I thought I came. I eventually found a servant, who directed me back to the manor and my rooms. When the maid came to dress me for supper, I pleaded off. I didn't think I could see Leonard so soon and act as if nothing happened.

§―∞―§

The very next day, something horrible happened. The only good that came of it was personal and quite selfish — I didn't have to worry about being wed to a man I barely knew anymore. With the Lord and Lady of Aerie dead, Leonard in the dungeons, and myself watched and locked in my rooms, I doubted there would be a wedding for a long time.

The first few days of my imprisonment I was furious at my lack of information. Through the talk of servants, though, I found that Lizbet and Michael Bain (the graying man from my first supper here, also the ex-chief advisor to Bastion) had been conspiring to gain the lord- and ladyship of the province of Aerie.

I was stunned that they would do such a thing. Perhaps that's naïve, but it's what I felt. Even as I saw how Lizbet was ignored, and how Bain was half-succeeding in controlling Bastion, I never though they would actually stage a revolt.

No less one that worked.

But what I thought did not, and probably would never, matter to the new dictators of Aerie. I learned this through experience. On the second day of my imprisonment, a grim-faced servant appeared at my door and led me down to the ballroom, headed by the double thrones.

Lizbet, clad in a rich indigo gown and wearing red lip rouge and black kohl all around her dark eyes, sat on one of them — the one that her mother laid claim to in her life. Michael Bain, Bastion's most trusted advisor, sat in the other.

I, who wore my hair straight down my back and wore but a simple dress and boots, felt almost humbled. But I held my chin high and put any fear out of mind. I addressed them first. "Now that you have the land of Aerie, you have no use for Leonard and I. Let us go." Maybe not the most fearless statement ever made.

Lizbet narrowed her eyes at me and I saw the guards posted around the room reach for weapons. Yet, when her quiet voice pierced the air, it wasn't a call for my death. "You, Lady Marie-Christine, are in no place to be making such demands. You ugly, dirty, _whore._"

Let no one illusion you that I am a gentle, patient, and calm maiden. What I next said would disillusion you. In fact, what I called Lizbet, I will not even repeat, for it was not something that you would hear in a civilized conversation.

But after, I said, "And why am I not in such a place to ask for the freedom of myself and my betrothed? I am a foreign noble — you admitted it yourself — and I came here only to marry as part of a treaty. You have no use for us anymore."

Bain started to laugh darkly. It infuriated me even more than my being stuck here. He leaned forward, his dark eyes dangerous. "Girl, if we have no use of a person, then we usually eliminate them. Permanently. Luckily (or perhaps unluckily) for you we cannot let either you, or your charming betrothed go free as of yet. Enjoy what's left of your life."

I glared at him as a pair of guards 'escorted' me out of the room. I could still hear Lizbet's laughter ringing in my ears after. The guards turned away from the path to my rooms, heading towards a section of the manor that I had never seen before. Well, that wasn't a surprise.

The two men led me through halls that were getting colder and colder, until we stopped in front of an iron door perhaps ten feet tall and reinforced by beams and bolts. It took both of them to open it, but when they had, they just pushed me through.

I was in the dungeons. The door slammed shut behind me, and I turned, afraid that I would starve down here. Then I remembered that Bain and Lizbet were planning on me being alive for a while longer yet. But how long? Long enough to die in a dungeon, I thought.

A sound pulled my attention to one of the furthest cells from where I stood, arms wrapped around me. I remembered the stories maids and servants would tell me to scare me — horrors of monsters, snakes, spiders, and unidentified shadows. My tutors believed in science and reason, however. Whenever I'd come in to a class with them spouting fairy tales, I'd get a sharp rap across the hand.

I walked soundlessly towards the cell from which the noise had come. When I pushed open the door, it creaked eerily. I wondered if they were deliberately not oiled for this reason. Well, the person inside was neither monster, nor snake, nor unidentifiable shadow. Instead, I found Leonard.

I pushed the door open the rest of the way, making my betrothed jerk his head up. I knelt at his side, mentally assessing his poor state. A cut wound its way up the side of his face, the sleeves of his shirt were torn open to reveal bruises, and tiny scratches and scrapes decorated every other patch of skin that I could see.

"Who's that?" Leonard asked weakly, turning his head slightly to see my face better. "Marie?"

I smiled. It was good that he still could talk. "It's me, Leonard. Can you tell me what happened? All of it?" And so I learned, by my betrothed steadily telling what he had seen, of what happened the during that last dinner.

Lizbet and Bain had been absent, but had given no excuse like I had. Half way through the meal, a small collection of soldiers broke down the door and seized Bastion, Delia, and Leonard. Lizbet and Bain entered. Then Delia and Bastion had pleaded with their daughter, but she just laughed coldly. Bain ran Bastion through with a sword.

Delia screamed as the soldiers dropped the corpse. Lizbet cried, "Shut up, you ignorant woman!" She took out a dagger and held it to her mother's throat, threatening her. When the Lady of Aerie hadn't appeased her daughter, Lizbet slit her throat. As with Bastion, the soldiers dropped Delia's dead body.

Bain and Lizbet had turned to Leonard, who was being restrained by no less than six soldiers. I guessed that was where his bruises had come from. Lizbet had said, "See how the mighty have fallen, brother. Whose side are you on now? Mine?" Leonard told me that his sister had pointed to his parents' bodies. "Or theirs?"

"I would never side with murderers, especially those with patricide and matricide on their heads!" Leonard had said. Lizbet slapped him, dragging a nail down his face. Her nails must be very sharp, I thought as I thought of my own short and blunt nails. My betrothed then went on to say simply that the guards had dragged him down to this cell, where we were now.

"And if you had been at the supper, I dare say you would have been down here quicker than this," Leonard laughed weakly. His face was too pale, and there were no signs of food in the cell. I was certain that he had barely eaten anything of substance. I took a glance at the bowl in the corner of the cell and decided that I wouldn't have either.

I placed my hand on his breast bone, feeling his heart beating beneath it. For all that he looked weak; his heart still had a strong beat. I smiled and I saw it reflected in Leonard's eyes. "But I wasn't. And I'm not sure they'll keep me down here even now."

The dark-haired man turned serious. He said, "Then we have to plan your escape."

"What?" I had never thought about escaping. Perhaps it was because I never had to before. "But what about you?"

"I am in no condition to move quickly, as you may be able to see," Leonard replied wryly, as wryly as my mother. My heart ached for her suddenly. "But you, Marie... You'll be able to get out and rally my people. I know you can!"

"Rally the people? _Je ne sais pas!_" I cried softly, scared that I would let him down. "I don't know how to rally any thrice-blasted people!"

"Then improvise!" Leonard whispered hotly. "I will not let the throne of Aerie stay with that murderous girl and her consort! I would rather burn!"

I closed my eyes, mentally cursing myself for my reluctance, and cursing my betrothed for his hotheadedness. I opened my eyes and said, "Fine then. What do I need to do?" Little did I know that those words would start a revolution.

The guards came back and cut our discussion short. The pair led me back to my rooms, as I hoped they would. The good news was that I was back in my rooms, which was important to the escape. The bad news was that I was starting to hate them.

Late that night, I pushed open one of my windows (Leonard had told me how to open the locks) and looked down. Guards patrolled the door, in pairs or in threes, possibly even in groups at shift time. I inched the window back into its place and tried another, this time one that looked out over the side of the grand manor.

I crossed to my bed and began to strip it of sheets. I needed the rope stored under a loose floor board for other things besides climbing down from my window. I knotted the sheets together, like Imogene in her tale. I felt a little foolish doing it, but I had no other way to climb down on.

I had also taken one of my more embellished dresses and completely demolished it. The ribbons, frills, and lace went into a pile that I hoped I would never see again. The skirt was cut up and made into trousers. I kept the bodice the same. It already had what I needed for a shirt.

Moments later, I swung to the ground on my chain of white bed sheets. My feet managed to be in the wrong places, and I fell, hard. I groaned softly at my complete lack of grace, and stood up again. The stables weren't too far away, but I had to make it there without being seen or heard.

I still don't know, to this day, how I managed to make it across the grounds and into the stables. And if you questioned me about my mad ride out of the grounds, I couldn't tell you a single thing. All I remember is that guards were shouting and the town was waking from the confusion. A few villagers even dared cheer as I urged my horse past their houses.

That was the last I saw of the grand manor and its surrounding village for a time. As I turned my head slightly, I saw people cheering and guards running past them. Encouraged, I urged the mare on even faster. I would not let Leonard down, nor the people of Aerie.

§―∞―§

It took a few days of riding nights and sleeping days for me to reach the first town. I was hesitant on the outskirts, thinking of all the promises I made myself and Leonard, but in the end it was those promises that drove me into town. I dismounted quietly and led my tired horse through the dawn-kissed streets until we reached an inn with a stable. I wouldn't rent a room, merely a stall.

I couldn't stay any longer than a day. I tied my horse to a post just outside the stable and walked inside. Now, in the light, I was almost embarrassed about my dress. But, I reminded myself, you didn't _have_ any trousers, and it's not like you can ride fast dressed in a gown. But the look on the innkeeper's face when he saw me made me blush crimson.

"Well, what do you want?" he growled. He took in my hastily-made outfit and raised an eyebrow. "We're a decent place, here."

I narrowed my eyes, temper short from my nocturnal rides. I knew I didn't look the best, but the least he could do was pretend I wasn't wearing hand-made trousers! "Listen, _vous imbécile_, I am not here to deal with idiotic, egoistical, self-absorbed innkeepers! I am here because I was asked to be here, not to kick insignificant pebbles out of my way!"

The innkeeper looked positively alarmed that this tall, blonde woman in trousers and a blouse that resembled a noblewoman's bodice was leaning over his counter in his inn, snarling orders at him. "How dare you speak to me like that? This is my inn!"

"And if you don't help me, it might well be burned down!" I tried reason with him. Obviously, it came across as a threat. "Not by me, _vous imbécile_, but by the people chasing me."

"Then I see no reason to help you!" the man cried. He was worried for his business, I could see. I wondered if my heroines in their stories ever felt this way when bargaining for something. I bet they did, just as my mother must have once.

"If you don't help me, then Lord Leonard will be dead within days; I, as his betrothed, will be hunted down and killed; and two murderers will have control over Aerie. Now, would you rather risk your inn being burned down after you helped your rightful Lady, or risk being killed by raiders and having no one to cry over your corpse?" I said this all with an even tone, painting an exaggerated picture. "I need directions to the headman of this village, and possibly something to eat?"

The man got a sly look in his eyes that I really didn't like. "Why should I believe you? For all I know you're just a peasant from Ahnteria that claims everything's bad here."

"You have two options here; believe me, or not believe me. I am rather partial towards you believing me, but I can see that will take a bit of work." I thought for a moment. I needed a good defense, as good as one I could present to my old maths teacher, who was a stickler for rules. "I would also like to believe that I'm behaving much more civilized than a peasant would after a few days of nocturnal riding. What do you need for proof?"

"The signet of Ahnteria. I heard Lady Marie-Christine carries it around with her," the innkeeper said promptly. I wondered where he had heard such horse dung. I wouldn't carry such a possession around my neck, especially now, but thankfully I had tucked it into a pocket.

I didn't ever want Lizbet touching the ring my mother wore until her death. I fished the heavy gold signet out of my pocket and laid it on my palm, slightly warm and glowing in the firelight.

The innkeeper seemed stunned at this new knowledge — that this stranger with blonde hair was really a Lady, who was betrothed to his sovereign, who was being held in prison by two murderers. He didn't respond right away, but when he did, it his tone was serious. "I'm sorry, milady. I didn't know things were so grim at the grand manor."

"I shouldn't have lost my temper anyways," I replied wearily, as good manners dictated. In reality, I believed my outburst was completely justified. "Now, could I have a meal, directions to the headman's house, and could I possibly trade the horse I came here on for another?"

"Of course, of course," the innkeeper replied graciously. He waved me to a spot near the empty fireplace and disappeared into the kitchen. I rested my forehead in my hands. These days of erratic sleep was taking its toll on me. If I didn't watch myself, I'd fall asleep.

Thankfully, the innkeeper returned soon enough, and with more than a hot meal. He had brought the headman, a stocky middle-aged man with a slightly receding widow's peak in his black hair. I smiled tiredly at them. "Good morning, gentlemen. Forgive me for not standing, but I'm a bit tired."

"Of course, milady," the headman said, sitting down opposite me. Both of us thanked the innkeeper for the meal, and we settled down to do business. "I am called Darius Ironwelder. Now, what would a young lady all the way from Ahnteria be doing in this neck of Aerie?"

"How much did he," I jerked my chin in the direction of the bar, where the innkeeper stood, "tell you?"

"Nothing, other than a young woman seemed quite desperate to see me."

"Well," I paused, searching for the right words to begin. "A few nights ago, the Lady Lizbet and Lord Bation's advisor, Michael Bain, staged a revolt down at the grand manor."

"That's not entirely surprising," Darius commented, looking puzzled. "What happened next?"

I looked him straight in the eyes. "The revolt worked. Now Lord Bastion and Lady Delia are dead, and Lord Leonard is in the dungeons. I managed to get out, and now I am under orders from my betrothed to rally everyone, to try and get rid of Lizbet and Bain."

"What will we get out of this?" Darius's question didn't surprise me very much. From what I had seen of Aerie, not a lot was done without a purpose.

"Well, you'll get the thrill of adventure," I started, "You'll get to learn, I suppose. As well, you'll make sure that two people guilty of both patricide and matricide will never take the throne again. You'll also get more of a say in what goes on in Aerie." That last one she'd have to cajole Leonard into doing. But it would be worth it, if it would bring me help now.

"Very well," Darius consented after a few moments of thought. "You have the support of Townshead. When shall we gather to fight?"

"You probably think me an idiot for not having this all figured out by now, but that's one of the things I need a bit of help on." I winced as I admitted this, still half-asleep. To my surprise, the headman didn't glare at me, only thought out loud:

"What if you came back through the villages once you have enough people on your side? You and your army could stop in the villages to pick up extras."

That was a good enough plan for me, and I told him so. Perhaps it wouldn't win a real war, but for a rebellion, it was fine. I stood up, but staggered. I couldn't walk; I was so tired. The innkeeper rushed up and led me to a room, saying something. I couldn't understand his words through the fog that was surrounding me, but I took it as something like I could have the room, but would pay him later. The moment my head touched the pillow I was asleep. They could have murdered me and I would not have felt a thing.

As it turned out, the innkeeper had not murdered me during the night. I also found that I had slept a whole day away. I dashed down the stairs, taking out a few coins from my belt purse. I had almost forgotten it yesterday, but now I would repay the innkeeper's kindness.

"Excuse me," I asked of the plump man that ran the inn, "how much do I owe you? And which horse am I able to take?"

"My dear, you own me nothing!" The innkeeper exclaimed and I was once again surprised. "Take Leap; the brown-white mare in the third stall." I thanked him and went out to saddle Leap. When I was ready, I left a few coins on the counter, seeing the man was busy. It was for the better, as I thought. I rode out of the town and began a series of visits to headmen, changes in mounts, and many retellings of my message.

Like many say, the first is the hardest. It was like that for me; Darius Ironwelder must have sent messengers ahead, for when I reached the towns of Everbloom, Museinn, Roshetchter, Ironmill, and the others, they readily agreed to my proposal. They even agreed to the slightly unorthodox method of gathering troops. I doubt it was my karma.

But it made getting back to the grand manor easy and quick. Soon the populations of the towns nearest to the manor were doubled, and the people could see that what I said was true. The manor was almost completely shut off; nothing came in and nothing went out except for supplies needed by the kitchen staff.

In my time away from the grand manor, I had forgotten its subtle graces, but now that I saw them again, I was hit with a wave of happiness. I caught myself whenever I felt this, telling myself that my real home was at least a day away. Still, I could not deny the fact that I was eager to free Leonard. At least I could admit that I missed him.

Whenever I went out into the village, I dressed as a boy. It wasn't very hard, once my hair was sheared to my chin. I doubted that even Mother would quite recognize me now, in a commoner's shirt and boyish brown leggings, running around in leather-laced boots. But it was necessary. As Darius, who had once been a soldier, said, I was somewhat of an icon to the commoners of Aerie.

If I was captured, then hopes would give out. So, under Darius's patient tutelage, I learned some of the basics of self-defense. I would not pretend that I would always beat a sinewy man who had been practicing a year, but what I learned focused on my strengths, and my opponent's weaknesses.

It wasn't the amazing street knowledge I had dreamed of having, but it would do in a close fight. At least, I hoped it would.

It turned out that for a while the commoners had been wanting more of a say in the government of Aerie — most of them were under the impression that they had to get me in and I would appeal to whomever would be sitting on the throne.

When I told that to Darius, in those words, he smiled and told me not to go into politics. My opponents would spend more time on their backs, laughing from my phrasing, than doing something productive. I scowled and tried to attack him. "Try" being the key word. I ended up flat on my back, like I had the time before that... And the time before that...

Then came the night we were planning on sneaking in. A large group of the commoners were at the gate, aiming to distract Lizbet's and Bain's forces from that direction. I, Darius, and a few others were to sneak in through the kitchens in the back of a supply wagon.

I felt slightly uncomfortable in the tailored blouse and women's leggings that everyone had surprised me with, used to the dirty cast-offs of the black smiths of the villages. If Father could see me now, I thought, he'd just go and off himself. It would be the talk of the century: Lord of Ahnteria Kills Himself Over Daughter's Choice of Dress. Or Lack Thereof.

A sharp bump in the road under the cart jerked my head into the side of the wagon. I saw that the others couldn't smile at my misfortune, for they were also hit. Just then I heard guards outside the cart, and the cart was stopping. I hoped the driver was a true patriot to our cause. That, or that Darius bribed him enough for him to keep his mouth shut.

It turned out that the driver didn't give us away. In a matter of minutes the cart started moving again, and then it was only minutes before Darius was helping me out of the cart, both of us picking straw our of our hair. Surprisingly impulsive, I reached for a sachet of lock picks from our small packs, planning on dashing down and freeing Leonard. _If he was still alive..._

Before anyone could grab my arm, I was out of the kitchen and into the shadows of the halls. I avoided the guards with astonishing ease and grace, seeing how little I had actually seen of the grand manor before I left. But within a quarter-hour, I was nearing the dungeon doors. The guards were absent, obviously under orders to watch the front gate. The solid doors should hold the prisoners.

"Should" being the key word, of course, not counting a determined woman. But when I had gotten through all the doors in my way, I found Leonard wasn't in his cell. Of course, I taunted myself, Why should he be? Lizbet and Bain would have guessed that the front gate would only be a distraction. They would know I'd be back to get Leonard. I am so naïve.

I turned away and carefully locked the doors again. I considered the options; Leonard would be with Lizbet and Bain, as a bargaining piece. And those two murderers would be in the throne room; furthest away from the walls in all directions. Yes, that is where my betrothed would be.

With the new-found grace I found myself possessing, I made my way to the hall that passed as Aerie's throne room. I saw snatches of fire-illuminated scenes from windows as I passed them, but didn't hear more than faint echoes of the fighting. Perhaps that was for the better.

I stepped through the doorway and found Leonard was being held captive by two guards. Lizbet and Bain were conversing by another exit. I couldn't take on two guards, I knew that. I turned and was about to find Darius when I saw him turning into the hall. He had brought enough fighters to battle about twenty guards, with the way countrymen fought dirty. For them, anything goes.

He glared at me for my foolishness, but let it be. With him at my side, I stepped into the light. The guards alerted the two dictators, and Lizbet turned and ran through the side door. Bain yelled for troops, and Leonard was released. Soon everyone was fighting, except for me. I felt like a ghost, the way I had been feeling in the corridors.

Wanting to make use of my anonymousness, I set my sight on Lizbet's exit. Dashing after her, I used whatever skills I could to find her trail. Thank goodness her perfume was so strong; the scent of rose buds led me through many a hallway until I actually saw her. Running in a corset it always harder than it sounds.

I finally faced Lizbet and caught her as she stopped by a rose bed in the gardens, not very long after I caught a glimpse of her dress flying around a corner. I stood tall in my breeches, but she was panting, in her dark gown and corset.

"Lizbet." I couldn't believe my voice was so calm. But I also couldn't believe that I truly pitied her. Her — the cause of so much of my grief. Her — the reason why I had spent the last weeks hiding. "It's time to stop running."

"Marie, you could never understand," Lizbet snarled as she stood up, revealing a wicked knife. It had been hidden in the folds of her skirts, I guessed quickly. "And that is why you have to die."

She lunged at me so quickly that I almost forgot to duck and move. But I managed, and twirled around. Leonard's sister lunged at me again, but this time I wasn't surprised. I caught her wrist and twisted it sharply to make her let go of the dirk. It went flying, and I chased it. I picked it up, and turned to face Lizbet again.

I didn't want to kill her, no matter how she hated me. I learned then that no matter how I could say I hated a thing, I could never hate a person. For if there was such a negative emotion in my soul, would it not be bestowed upon Lizbet?

But my thoughts were costly, and the dark-haired woman almost knocked the knife out of _my_ hand. I managed to hold on somehow, but in the struggle, Lizbet's eyes went dark and dull. I stepped back as she fell to the ground, a dark stain spreading across her bodice. I looked at the knife in my hand and dropped it.

The silver blade shone red with blood.

I was horrified. I could not believe that this had happened. I fell to my knees and remained there until Leonard found me and pulled me into his arms.

§―∞―§

There was a funeral, as was proper. The coffins of the guards, Bain, and Lizbet were decorated in the exotic way of Aerie. I stood beside Leonard in a black mourning dress, crying silently. When it was time to throw flowers on the coffins before they were covered with dirt, I was the only one to contribute to Lizbet's grave.

A single red rose. Maybe it would take root and grow, as stories said roses could. It could remind all who passed this sight of the bloodshed that came when greed overcame all other senses. A mat of red — red as Lizbet's blood.

I turned away and found that Leonard and I were the only people left. Well, it hadn't been a very populated funeral in the first place. I tried to smile at him and tell him that all was well, but I couldn't. And he didn't seem to expect reassurance.

"It hurts, doesn't it?" He whispered as we walked in the gardens. We came to the spot where we first kissed. It seemed decades ago. "She was still my sister, and Bain was like a favorite uncle to me while growing up. It hurts to have them gone."

"I'm sorry, Leonard," I whispered back.

He turned my head up and held my gaze. "It is not your fault, Marie."

I tried to smile again, and barely managed. I searched my betrothed's eyes. To my surprise, I found emotions there. Regret, sorrow, ambition, steadiness, and something that could grow into love one day. Maybe.

Maybe.

* * *

Okay, I finally have access to this site on my computer again. I'm sorry for not having edited this author's note-chapter-update-thingie, but what can I say? Computers are butt-heads. I have some news.

This is a ONE-SHOT. As in, THERE WILL BE NO MORE CHAPTERS, ETC. I had grad plans, very grand plans indeed, for this world, but my next chosen character didn't like me, I think.

UPDATES LIKE THIS WILL NOT BE PERIODIC. I have strayed into the land of fiction, even with this, and am not very fond of the idea of going back (except when I need a character that can hurl fireballs, jump over skyscrapers, sprout wings, and still cry about their best friend's death).

I will also put this on my profile, but I'll also say it here. I want to get an account on so my new stories might be up there sometime soon. Maybe.

And, well, thank you to everyone who even bothered reading this, and I hope you all enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it!


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